


Behold, your God

by w_akatoshi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angels and Demons, Gen, Historical Inaccuracy, I killed bo bc akaashi told me to, M/M, Religious Conflict, hints of depression, only slighg bokuro, this was a mistake, villain akaashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-23 20:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13197948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/w_akatoshi/pseuds/w_akatoshi
Summary: Do heroes die?





	Behold, your God

**Author's Note:**

> 
>     *throws this here tbh* original au was superhero bokuaka and it slipped into this mess. sort of beta-ed and not lol Big thanks to my [microwave](https://anxietaejun.tumblr.com/)!!!! held me when i didnt want to be held and gave me more hcs for fics i wont finish lmao ily. Please enjoy!

†††

He’s falling.

A boy named Bokuto, age unknown, is falling.

Falling, to an observer would mean dropping from a high point to a lower point.

To a romantic view would be descending into a fit of frenzy, a person becoming an object of attraction.

For Bokuto, falling is a cardinal sin. His kind had turned their beliefs against winged creatures opting to be a mortal instead.

At least that’s how it was done centuries ago. Bokuto hasn’t seen anyone like him since he was born. His own parents incapable, flightless even. They couldn’t teach him how to use his own wings when he first discovered he had them. Bokuto was confused. Why was he different from his parents? Was he adopted? Is Bokuto an alien from another planet?

His mother smiled, his father setting a hand on his shoulder. Bokuto, age 9, learned that they were once like him. Never on the ground as they swam with the dusts of the clouds, his mother went into detail of how it used to feel having another pair of arms on her back that gave her the ability of flight. Then she looked at Bokuto’s father with a face he’s seen on nights he can’t sleep, a face she gives him to assure she will never go away. Bokuto didn’t understand then. If it wasn’t a crime to love amongst their kind then why did they lose their wings?

“We were seen as God’s symbol of hope. Our lives equate as proof that he is real and is watching above. Freedom, our will to decide for our own, it was never handed to us. Only humans had the luxury to live as how they want to”. 

Bokuto felt his mother’s smile a little too bright, her face never showed any hints of sadness around him. Her positive outlook never faltered and it kept Bokuto at ease in moments he is unsure of himself.

The only time it disappeared was when she collapsed down on the floor with her chest heaving for a saving breath. The chance never came up thus leaving her lifeless, choked out from having to live the rest of her life as a human. Bokuto, age 13, cried for nights, yearning for a mother that cooked him meals on days he needed it the most. He knew why she kept putting up a facade even with having to suffer through her sickness. His father says it’s common for their kind, those who have abandoned their wings, to live shortened lives after. Especially with women who gave birth on top of cutting 10 years out of their life, it is a predicted death.

He tells Bokuto a secret the same night they buried his mother’s body. It’s almost a farewell for him, having to accept the tragic end of his own family. He has lived longer than it would seemed to be yet the aging only felt real when he turned into a man who walked the earth on his feet. He puts his palms on the tips of Bokuto’s shoulder to comfort him on his agony.

“Koutaro, listen well. Your mother and I have kept this from you, but I think It’s time you must be aware”.

Bokuto’s wails come to a soft halt. His hands stops abusing the skin on his eyes as it had turned red days ago.

“You are the last of our kind. You were made before we lost flight, me and your mother left the heavens when we knew. You are different from the kids who were born of the same situation. You are not human at all, you are still an angel".

It made some sense to Bokuto in his exhausted state. He had some questions, of course. His father would dismiss them every time he asks. Bokuto felt that it was unfair for him to be treated this way, from the knowledge that had already hurt him. If he knew then could he have saved his mother from dying? Does he even have any special powers other than flying? How come his wings are not there and it would only appear rarely?

 

Why are wingless creatures seen as lower beings in the ecosystem?

 

These are questions Bokuto, aged 19, answered himself, when he said goodbye to two headstones bearing the same last name as he does. Bokuto never felt alone in the entirety of what life he has led, with the history of his original self revealing slowly, piece by piece. He can call forth his wings by mind now with his newly discovered trick that he had to perfect for days. The days after he turned 18 had indicated he was in the stage of a maturing angel. Bokuto had a knack of sneering at the term, at the name of what he truly is. By now, Bokuto knew his anger towards his own kind. To a king who carried his reign on his selfish throne, commanding his creatures to roam for him to spread the word.

 

Bokuto, age 21, almost tore his wings from his aching back.

 

Having to deal with the voices in his head that kept him up every night, telling him a sense of conviction that he doesn’t believe into. The singing tunes mellow into his brain when the T.V. isn’t even on, the cellular phone silent and along with his apartment. Bokuto is clueless as to where these sounds are coming from. Is it one of his powers? The screeches don’t calm down on days he has to work in the cafe and this made him question if he became numb to the pain. He doesn’t fly when he is troubled because it would look like he is running away.

Eventually the words are out of his head one morning when he woke up. Bokuto felt deaf. For the first time in months, he hasn’t heard the kids crying from the neighboring house two blocks away. Or the radio from the police station at the corner of the opposite block from his house. It’s strange, how did it stop? Bokuto reaches for the nightstand when he sees it, hand smeared with crimson.

Blood.

There’s blood on my hand.

Bokuto shoots up from the bed to find why and when? There’s no other traces of it on his body, he checks his back first. Had he gone crazy last night? Did he actually pull them out? Bokuto calls his wings out in a jiff, the arch of his right wing had protruded towards the window that it knocked the glass out. He winces at the sound, that’s the first thing he’s heard all morning. So he’s not deaf, he sighs in relief. Bokuto feels the bones on his back that extended out to the open. They’re all intact.

Suddenly, his phone had started blaring up. He recognizes this ringtone. Bokuto wills his wings to retreat, the pair slowly crawling, hiding itself on his back. He discovers the trail of blood on the other side of the bed while taking the device from the nightstand. Bokuto answers the call as he slips it on the side of his face.

“Bo? Took you so long-".

“Tetsu, why is there blood in my apartment?”. 

Bokuto knew his friend was alone at the moment. His friend, Tetsu, was the only one who knew about his secret outside the family. They had met in high school, the boy with jet black hair who wore a crooked smile extended his hand to Bokuto’s way. Kuroo Tetsuro, he tells him. Bokuto took his hand on his own and it spills all of what Kuroo means behind that hello. There wasn’t any venom at all, Bokuto was surprised. Not that everyone he met had all thought of him in that sense, Kuroo just looked like he was that type of person that’s all.

He tells Kuroo about his wings when they graduated. On a whim Bokuto asked Kuroo when they got to his house, in Kuroo’s room to be exact. Bokuto called them forth and heard a bunch of different things toppling over on the floor. Kuroo’s eyes had widened enough that Bokuto hasn’t seen him do it in all of the years they have known each other. He drops the bag of chips he was holding on the ground. At first, Kuroo hesitated. He raises his hand while he trudged over to Bokuto’s spot, looking at him as if it meant asking for permission to touch it. Bokuto nods once, guiding the other’s nervous hand on the spot where it stretched out. Kuroo’s hand met a family of wings bundled on top of each other, a bony structure that seemed too strong at the same time so delicate. He too, had questions. It was the only night they spent in Kuroo’s room without touching the controllers.

“You don’t remember? Anything at all? Turn the T.V. on then maybe it’ll give you a hint. I’ll wait". 

Bokuto is puzzled by the answer. It was not what he wanted to hear. He quickly walks out of his room, grabbing the remote control on the table in the living room. Using his thumb, he presses the red button to power on the appliance. The first thing he sees is the news channel for his city, it looks like a replay from the one earlier.

“It should come after the weather part so fast forward it". Kuroo says after a few seconds of silence from his side. Bokuto does this, stopping on the note when he reads the head title.

“Birdman attacks again? Kuroo, what the hell happened?”. Bokuto is a little mad now. The newscaster’s wary voice had matched the story’s description well. It had been the 6th time in two weeks, she says. Tokyo’s crimes have always been on the high rise but this does the job well on making the streets risky for people to frequent at. Her tone shifts to a lighter beat in the middle of her discussion, all the victims of the attacks are actually a bunch of low level criminals. Bokuto frowns at this, when did he become a protector of this town?

“Why didn’t you stop me Tetsu? I killed all those people-".

“Don’t do this to yourself, Bo. I wasn’t going to say it but every time you black out after the incident, the day after you don’t remember anything”.

“Because i’m not supposed to kill anyone!”. Bokuto squeezes the gadget in his hand so hard, he feels it crack somewhere. Murdering people is beyond his nature, even if his belief contradicts his own person. Bokuto is never one to do good for the benefit of other people, yet here he is killing off petty thieves to save students on their way home. It’s as confusing as how it looks, not having any memory of the blood shed. At the same time, it’s good for Bokuto. He doesn’t have to think back on the dirty job on nights he can’t stand to be alive. Bokuto is immortal, he made sure.

“Listen. The police thinks it’s justice at the wrong hands, but no one else is really complaining. Don’t shut yourself off when you could be saving more people. Get dressed we got class soon". Bokuto ends up with a disconnected line. He looks at the time on the screen and it says 30 minutes before his first class of the day. Apparently, even angels have to go to school. Bokuto tosses his hand held on the couch to take a cold shower, his hair needs to be done soon. All that platinum growing out of his crown is already suspicious as is.

 

Bokuto, at age 23, stopped worrying about being normal.

A huge earthquake had rocked the country to its knees again. The lands had shaken buildings down to the land, water flushing everything on its way. The citizens have seen their homes crumble along with the hopes of waking up tomorrow. The lives they have built from ashes are destroyed by the trembling of the planet they call home. Bokuto made a hard turn on his decision, he knows this will affect whatever future is out there for him. But they need him, he tells himself. Bokuto shuts his eyes to rethink of his choice to save the people, to help them get to a shelter. Will it save him? In return for the good deeds, will it be enough to answer what he truly is? Bokuto knows it will all come to him in time. He stands on a tower that looms over Tokyo, all the yells for help and screams for loved ones he hears from everywhere. North, south, east and west. Do they need him? Bokuto balls his hands into fists. It should be easy for him to do the task yet, Bokuto is wavering.

What if they hate me?

What if they’ll pluck my wings out?

What if I regret this?

Bokuto has never felt more human in his lifetime. He peers back at the scenery before him, taking a long breather. Bokuto summons his wings, having them spread wide in the open. The mix of gray and ivory colored the feathers that covered the muscle of the wings. Bokuto closed his eyes once again as he takes a step off from the tower. The harsh wind was a familiar feeling to Bokuto’s body and he was used to surging into it. He remembers the time his own wings felt too heavy for him to move, it was only the third time Bokuto had it on his back. It still felt strange when he feels the bone structure on his back maneuver itself to push them out. Now, it’s as light as a shadow. Bokuto at times doesn’t even feel them moving when he is flying, he doesn’t know if the wings are second nature to him or if flying is.

In an attempt to hide his face, Bokuto fashions a masquerade mask on his face. He found it lying around in his closet earlier, head lopsided into thinking where and how did he obtain such dramatic thing? Bokuto’s advanced senses acted as the voice in his head to locate places that needed saving. His chest felt like it was drowning from the overwhelming voices that seeped into the cracks of his skull. Bokuto wondered if being an angel meant carrying the burden on his shoulders. He was never selfless, his friends telling him on daily basis he was too nice for the cruel world. Bokuto could never tell them anything past those laughter they share, of how much he despises the obligation to be good at heart.

Bokuto is good at blurring the lines to put himself on a spot that seemed convenient enough. Blame it on his ancestors, blame it on the golden eras his eyes will never see.

He lands the first step on top of a car being swept away by the flooding waters. Bokuto doesn’t see any bodies under the moving current nor any animals. He reconnects to the core of his strength to sense out anything in the area; dead or alive. Bokuto swings his head to a woman and children roaring under the rubble of their fallen roof. He skips off to the find the site, his vision giving him the ability to see through foreign objects as he freely roams. Bokuto’s vision detects the mother buried under the debris, their house completely in shambles. He doesn’t waste a second and rushes into action. Bokuto held his breath, arriving at the disaster with his heart almost exploding. He held the fragment of bricks with his calloused hands as he steadies himself, lifting it up. It was no surprise to Bokuto when he finds the mother’s arms strapped along the bodies of her daughters. He hurls the rubble to the direction of the water, slightly kneeling to inspect the victims.

“I’m here to help, let’s get you to the shelter,” was his proposal. Bokuto’s eyes lurks at the situation. If she refuses to take his offer it’ll kill her instead. Her legs had taken damage from the incident so running would be out of the question. The waters are rising too, there’s no other way to do this. She opens her eyes to take a look at their savior, flinching at the pain as it sinks into her consciousness. Her eyesight started to dim around the edges of Bokuto’s frame standing a few inches away. She falls into a dream of hope with a man who came to rescue them on a disastrous night. Bokuto carries their weight on his chest as his wings take them to the nearest hospital in the area. Thankfully the one he happens to find is standing still on its place, operating on full power.

Bokuto rushes into the entrance with the bodies hanging on his arms, startling both the patients and employees. His wings are in full view for them to admire in awe, the realization manifesting to them that a supernatural being had stepped into their realm. Bokuto looked, turning his head to find anyone who can help him.

“Please! This woman suffered some injuries and needs to be treated as soon as possible!”. He yelled, but people were only staring. Bokuto sees; he feels the strange atmosphere circling around him. He’s not welcome here, his kind aren’t used for this. He huffs, his faith in humanity lowering to the ground. There’s a stretcher at the corner of his eye and Bokuto takes this chance to end the shame. He pulls it from the EMT to lay the mother who’s still clutching her children. There’s a bitter taste at the end of his tongue, the trembling discomfort in his gut leading his legs to shake. He might have been too flashy with his movements, flustered at the mistake he chose to make. Bokuto races to the exit of the hospital, the gazes and stares tucked into his pocket. It will stick longer than he wants.

Bokuto’s dedication doesn’t find him underneath the negativity. He couldn’t forget it, the hard times and the days spent trying to accept himself. Bokuto actually found it amazing he was chosen to be given these gifts.To be able to fly, to have super strength, hearing and eyesight refined. When the darkness found him in between time lapses it was too difficult for Bokuto to unlock the shackles himself. Is this the consequence of being an angel? Was it right to continue spending time on the earth that didn’t welcome his presence?

 

The week had turned better for Bokuto, at least for the man who has been raving every news channel. The government had sent out relief packages to the families who had been devastated by the tsunami. Homes were starting to be rebuilt, hope once again etched into their hearts. Bokuto ran his fingers on the wet hair sticking on his forehead, he runs through the movie listings mindlessly. What is he in the mood for tonight?

“Look at you, going around saving people. My hero". Kuroo croons at the space in between Bokuto’s neck and shoulder, arms snaking low on the latter’s hip.

“Where were you all this time? I was worried". Bokuto’s lip forms into a pout, bopping his head to meet Kuroo’s own.

“Fortunately the school grounds were unaffected by the flood so I stayed here. My mom had to leave our old house and stayed with her sister”.

“It’s good that she’s fine".

Kuroo took the remote from Bokuto’s hand, earning a frown from him. Kuroo placed it back on the news channel just in time to see the prime minister doing his talk. Going over the details of the funds that was raised for this matter and explaining thoroughly where it’s going. At the middle of his speech, he sights the courageous act done by the man with strange powers. Birdman, the word leaves his mouth. The precise statements about Bokuto’s heroism had been recognized as an honorable act and will remain as a stairway for the citizens towards faith. Bokuto finds himself fastening a tiny smile on his lips, it’s enough to think of as a simple thank you.

“These people are going to need you again. Are you ready to do that?”.

“C’mon Tetsu I’m a hero now!! Have a little trust in me". Bokuto grabs the remote back, switching to netflix again. He’s made his decision to pick a movie now, his heart pounding loudly on his chest. Bokuto knows shouldering the safety of the city will be the toughest choice he will make. He knows this is not from the good will that has been passed down by his ancestors, it is his sole decision. Bokuto might be blunt on the edges but he has come to understand himself a little. No matter how hard it is, Bokuto will find the answer.

“So? Are you going to go play hero and leave me hanging? I’m hurt, Bo".

“I’ll make you my sidekick if you want".

“My sense of being heroic is not as strong as yours. But I might be able to help in some other way".

Bokuto frees himself out of Kuroo’s hold with a confused expression. He admits that Kuroo is smart and cunning most of the time. Bokuto sometimes find himself being lured onto the other with the way he talks and how he handles his stress from school.

“Yea? What kind of help?”. Bokuto stares into the same crooked smile Kuroo likes to show off.

 

Bokuto, age 24, meets the devil.

 

Bokuto didn’t know true evil could be so endearing. True evil that hid itself in the heart of the school library, reading its life away with a number of fictional stories. The devil himself couldn’t possibly be interested in fairy tales or the adventure to find the missing gold. Bokuto watched as he expressed the deep hate for all breathing creatures, mouthing the words as he turns to the next page of book curled into his hand. The devil finds it tiresome, to the point of fatigue itself, of watching as life becomes defined with emotions and unstable connections. Multiple ways in, only one exit. Bokuto wanted to disagree; he wanted to yank him off his seat and take him outside so he can yell. Bokuto does, stopping on his tracks to look the other straight in the eye.

“I don’t know what you’ve been watching or what your parents had been teaching you, which is wow really bad but if you turn against your own kind then that’s just as good as being dead".

Bokuto knows he doesn’t have the right to say this. The conflict in his chest is loud on his ears, the greater good in him again? It has always been a temptation for Bokuto to see what happens when he doesn’t do what it says. It’s just a voice, he says. A voice that had been telling him how to live his life until now. Bokuto watches as the other’s lips curl to a tiny chuckle, a hint of smile in there somewhere.

“A-akaashi……”. The first time Bokuto said his name out loud.

“Do you know how death feels like?”. And Bokuto swears he sees Akaashi washed in red, picture perfect memories that flooded Bokuto’s own mind. To his own expense Akaashi had been born off from the need, the want, of angels throwing away their immortality. Their greed for affection gave Akaashi a heartbeat, hands and arms come to creation as the wings were hastily removed from their backs. A being constructed from the remains of what angels used to be, dropped and forgotten. Bokuto felt his chest heavy with anguish; He has no right to feel any pity for Akaashi. He cannot atone for the sins his ancestors had done.

Bokuto is brought back from reading into Akaashi’s mind farther than he had ever done yet. Unsure if he had done it unconsciously or Akaashi had pushed him to do so. Bokuto knows this is not a cry for help nor an accident he just happened to pass by. The last one of his kind having to meet the creature in opposite of him, a person, no. Bokuto concentrates at the current possibility that Akaashi might have a clue who he is; what he could possibly be. Akaashi’s stoic gaze pierced through Bokuto’s own amber pupils, his lips are now set in a thin line. Bokuto wants to be baffled, thrown at the edge even. He knew a moment like this would definitely pass up, Bokuto felt the world spat at his face. No warnings, nothing. A pretty face, an interesting fellow. It wasn’t enough for Bokuto to heed it as a message of danger.

“What are you?”.

Akaashi trudges towards Bokuto menacingly. Bokuto is having problems with his luck tonight, he took them to a blind spot of the university. How can he have walked so far without noticing? Akaashi’s footsteps rang like a firing cannon every step he took. Bokuto wants to call forth his wings but unsure if it is the greatest idea he has under his sleeve. At the sight of an unknown being Bokuto cracks under the pressure, Akaashi’s not stopping on his feet. Even with Bokuto being a few centimeters taller, Akaashi’s aura is stronger. Bokuto knows he is not imagining it, the shadows moving on their own. As if it’s not enough he is weird himself, Bokuto could only ask for it to get better. The boy he harbors affections for comes out to be his own murderer, well not yet anyway.

Bokuto knows the look on Akaashi’s face meant this is not a dream. A nightmare while he is awake? Bokuto can agree.

“Can we talk about this first? I’m not supposed to be-- I SWEAR AKAASHI I CAN’T--”.

Bokuto huffs, his wings clawing out the back of his shirt. It’s the 3rd time this week. It looked like a good choice to Bokuto since Akaashi stopped, eyes wide. His shadows frozen on the floor as well, his hands are covered from wrist to fingers of black miasma. Akaashi’s face twist into the widest amusement, his eyes merciless. Bokuto sprang up mid air in defense, wings waving with stricken force. He cracked, of course he would. Bokuto is afraid, how can a beautiful face screw into an evil expression like that?

“Bokuto-san, come down here. Don’t make me chase after you”. Even Akaashi’s words are venomous as he spits them out. Akaashi’s long forgotten they are at school grounds, his shirt and slacks have slowly materialized into a gown. A shrill, jet black over all that had covered Akaashi’s body. The thick miasma has finally covered the length of his ankles and his fingers are leading them towards Bokuto’s direction. This is bad, Bokuto thinks. He does a breather, climbing up farther while watching Akaashi rise on his feet too. Bokuto knows this area better than anyone else, every narrow road, every dumpster on the street. Bokuto takes one good look at Akaashi then races out of the area. 

 

Bokuto, age 24, faces his deathbed. 

 

There’s no sign of the witch; Bokuto decides calling him the devil is too cliche. It’s far too cliche for this generation and far from how scary Akaashi actually is. He’s hovering on top of the highest building with his senses raw open, Bokuto is assuming the nights are powering Akaashi up too much. He remembers how much angels have fallen; Is the Akaashi the only one of his kind? Bokuto hopes he is. No matter how much it made Akaashi feel unwanted, he is a force that should not be alive in this world. A powerful being enough to cause chaos with a snap of his mere fingers. Distracted on his heel, Bokuto felt a touch ghosting on his leg. He immediately felt someone was dragging him down, leg bruising from the strength as Akaashi pulled him from his spot. Bokuto tries to fight it, wings trying to take him to a safe place.

“Don’t make me do all the work, Bokuto-san. You’re tempting me to rip off those lovelies on your back”.

It was so sudden. A point second mistake led him to dropping on solid ground, breaking the road from how Akaashi had thrown him with only one hand. The loud ruckus had echoed through the whole city, alerting everyone in the vicinity. Mass hysteria, Bokuto knows Akaashi will feed off from it too. He felt a pang on one of his leg, the one that Akaashi held. Bokuto can heal himself well but he knows it’s not going to be enough if Akaashi plans on killing him. Broken bones are one thing, he has to save the people too. Bokuto winces as he maneuvers his arm to move, hand taking his phone out of his pocket. He pressed Kuroo’s name and calls him.

“Dinner’s ready-".

“Tetsu, I think I’m gonna die tonight". He doesn’t press the end button yet. At least telling Kuroo a decent goodbye and a reason will be acceptable as his farewell.

“Akaashi, he… There’s no way I can beat him. He’s too powered up. Remember I told you about my past? How other angels give themselves up to be human? All of those brought Akaashi here, he is the result of them breaking the rules".

“Listen Tetsu, if I give him mine he will kill everyone in this world. He needs the last one and he will be complete. I’m going to try to stop him with everything I got, I don’t know if I’m gonna make it for dinner".

Bokuto hears Kuroo breathing unsteady, knowing him he could be crying now. Bokuto looks up from his spot, Akaashi has his hand reaching up as he forms a massive sphere from the miasma. Bokuto can only stare at him with admiration, he’s never had a strong sense of living. And yet here’s Akaashi, who never asked to be born.

“Beat him up for me, will ya? You really have bad tastes in people". Kuroo’s sniffling now, almost at the limit of breaking down. Bokuto half smiles, he knows there’s nothing more to be said. He finishes the call, pocketing his phone. Bokuto stands up, willing away the dizziness in his head. His left arm is now out of commission from breaking his fall, everything else seems to be in a working state. His heart is a different story, he couldn't be bothered with checking with whatever is left of it. Akaashi had already taken half, after all.

Bokuto jumps to join the other up in the air, Akaashi has stopped making the orb bigger on his hand. It looks too heavy, Bokuto discerns. He looks at the surroundings that will receive the end of Akaashi’s wrath, civilians will perish and buildings will be destroyed. It’s unlikely possible Bokuto can warn them to take shelter or move out of the area, he doesn’t know Akaashi’s capabilities yet.

“These humans have done nothing good in all their lifetimes, why risk yourself for them?”. Akaashi’s tone had gone lower, he’s not playing games now.

“Because someone needs to stop you. They need their homes and they’ve let me live with them in peace”. Was Bokuto’s answer, Akaashi frowned harder.

“Then give me those wings. You love being with humans then be one, Bokuto-san".

Akaashi didn’t hesitate on his track, he climbed up higher to release the power that had been resting on the tips of his fingers. Bokuto was a second too late, wings shielding himself in an attempt to fight the intensity of Akaashi’s destructive force. Bokuto heard the blast and then everything went into silence. He tried to fight it off from reaching the town beneath him, his own body unable to keep up with the brutality. Bokuto breaks more bones this time, his ability to heal himself had stopped working. His will of wanting to defeat Akaashi had been completely dissolved with the city he loved most. Bokuto fell again on his back, on the exposed hole where the sphere had landed. His wings are throbbing in pain with the rest of his body, a number of growing bruises and cuts becoming obvious on his skin. Bokuto’s eyesight had started to blur Akaashi’s figure as he comes closer to him. He felt another sharp-- piercing ache on his chest, realizing Akaashi had stabbed him through. There’s more blood coming out.

“They never told you the real reason why angels can’t bear offspring, did they? Your parents never told you angels can fall even with their wings attached to their back. You’ve never been up there, not even once".

Akaashi’s words are harder to register now. Bokuto is lost amidst fighting the darkness in himself and trying to will death away. It’s impossible, he knows he is immortal. But this is different, Akaashi had successfully stopped him from healing himself. Is he an exception then? Why did no one tell him?

“Half of you have been consumed already, why fight it?”. 

Akaashi took his spear out of Bokuto’s chest with no warning. He faces up to the night of the sky with hands reaching up for them, Akaashi had split the horizon with ease. Bokuto can only be amazed, eyes darting up as well. Akaashi had paved him a glimpse of what heaven actually looked like, Bokuto sees fire instead. He doesn’t understand. The voice in his head disappeared a second after he saw the kingdom resting in sky ablaze and on its ruins. Bokuto sits up unconsciously, his eyes are clearer now. He felt the structure of his wings had suddenly wilted into nothing but bones. Bokuto takes one look at Akaashi, who closed their distance with a hand on his cheek.

“You are not an angel, Bokuto-san. Half of you might have took the remnants of your birth father but your mother… she was a creature from the pits of hell".

The touch of his hand had bared its effects on Bokuto’s blanched face. His veins had started to color themselves black, marching towards the rest of his face. Akaashi stares at this and pulls back. He takes one good look at the muscle of Bokuto’s wings, tempted to see what will happen if he touched it. Akaashi stares up to the divided sky again, expression unreadable. He decides to close it off, now that Bokuto has seen the truth. There’s no way he can accuse him of lying, not when the effects have showed itself.

Bokuto, age 24, has fallen.

No one had told him his life had been a lie all along until Akaashi came. Akaashi showed him the truth, the home he has been taken away from was never truly home. There is no home for the likes of Bokuto, he can’t even bring himself to hate his parents for lying. Half angel, half demon. It was too bizarre to figure out how. Bokuto tries to put them together one by one, the voice in his head, the darkness always waiting for him. His mother dying at an early stage, his father ignoring all of his questions. Bokuto’s eyes had shifted towards Akaashi’s back, what is he waiting for?

“Aren’t you going to kill me?”. Bokuto used what’s left of his strength to get his body to stand up. He’s too exhausted to keep fighting. The life he had was a well constructed lie, it had no meaning to him. His parents stopped being an important asset to him.

“You’ve already lost your wings. It’s as good as being dead". Akaashi’s cold weighted words hit Bokuto harder than any blow he’s received today. His wings meant everything to him; If living without them meant as good as being dead then Bokuto will gladly throw away his life to get them back. He watched as Akaashi pierces his spear through his heart this time. Bokuto wants to ask if he purposely missed the last time. His shivering hand wrapped on the solid metal as the blood runs down from the ends of his mouth.

One heartbeat after another, Bokuto slowly begins to lose it.

Akaashi wills the spear to vanish from thin air. He barely catches the body on his arms as Bokuto crouches on his touch. He wishes it could have been done different, their meeting, Bokuto discovering his origin. There was no way he can rewind and redo all of it, his powers do not extend that far. Akaashi can destroy planets but can’t make things better for his liking. He can still smell the faint odor of Bokuto’s half angel lingering on him, still strong even when he’s dead. Akaashi assumes that until the end, Bokuto believed he was one of them.

 

†††

 

Akaashi doesn’t keep up with the days. How much time had gone past through him or how many days has it been, it all doesn’t bother him. He flips through the channels mindlessly, changing it after another. Akaashi stops at the local news, in the middle of the reporter stating facts about what happened the day their hero disappeared. The city is still trying to repair the damages it received the same day Akaashi took Bokuto’s life on his hand. He had the upper hand in their battle and even Bokuto would agree with him. The other man had no chance to develop himself further and his skills. He had knowledge of the basics, yet no one was there to tell him there was more than just his wings.

Bokuto did manage to save the townspeople in their need. He pulled them up on their knees and gave them a sense of security. Akaashi was always watching. He wanted to tell him the truth before it was too late, before this all happened. Akaashi never meant to kill Bokuto, it was the only way to have him be reborn. It was one thing Bokuto didn’t know, of course. Akaashi knew he was clueless with everything about him. Bokuto being half angel was already unacceptable as is, Akaashi had to sit there and do nothing. While Bokuto fought himself from letting the demon in him take over, Akaashi couldn’t properly tell him how.

Akaashi’s not supposed to be helping him anyway. This is not his job, it was just a coincidence. He happened to be in the same area as he is, Akaashi didn’t even want to know. All of the excuses he can use just to say he wasn’t responsible for the city’s loss. Akaashi drops the remote on the table with a random channel on the screen, something about making eggs and sausage for breakfast he overhears. The snores coming from the couch aren’t getting any quieter so Akaashi opts to waking up the said man himself.

“Bokuto-san, it’s time for breakfast. Your turn to make it today".

Akaashi goes to shake the other awake, reminding himself to be careful of Bokuto’s wounds. It’s been a few weeks since Akaashi had taken him home, washed his body and disinfected his injuries. Wrapped Bokuto up and waited for him to regain his senses. It is true Bokuto died on that night. Akaashi killed him while in his state of battling two natures that didn’t belong in one place. He did him a favor, Akaashi tells Bokuto after he woke up. He explained to him what he really is and how he came up to be. How his father had fallen after choosing to be with his demon mother, none of it sounded real to Bokuto on the first day.

“Mmmm-- Akaashi… It’s time already?”. Bokuto sat up from his spot, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. His hair is surprisingly sticking on his forehead, the colors mixed with how the roots are growing out to be dark brown. Akaashi thinks this is one of the effects of Bokuto losing his wings. He once checked how Bokuto’s back looked like and there were no traces of his wings being there. No cuts, nothing. Akaashi asked Bokuto one night if he can try calling it again, it didn’t reappear.

“It’s 10AM. We should have had breakfast already".

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll get to it now".

“No need to rush, Bokuto-san. You’re still healing up, it needs to be given some time".

Bokuto eyes the bandages on his chest, he needs to change those later. He notices the sun draping all over the windows today, Akaashi pulled the curtains today. He doesn’t remember what exactly happened that night he fought Akaashi. All he knows he can never fly again and that he wasn’t who he thought he is. Bokuto doesn’t know if he can bring himself to hate Akaashi. He took the life Bokuto lived with greatness, now he can only see it as a vivid memory that happened in the past. Bokuto had his questions answered by Akaashi after a long time of waiting. Akaashi didn’t beat around the bush, telling him the truth to his face.

“When do you think can I go out Akaashi?”.

“When your wounds have completely healed, till then you’re staying here”.

Bokuto stood from the couch to make his way to the kitchen. He actually feels much heavier than his usual self, is it because he is human now? He takes the packet of bacon and carton of eggs out of the fridge, turning on the stove as he waits for the pan to heat up. Bokuto has been making breakfast for him and Akaashi for some time now. His feelings have outgrew itself to the point of not knowing how to describe it. He’s technically sharing a house with his murderer; Bokuto doesn’t label it anything.

“I’ll help change the gauze after we eat, that way I can see if you stretched it open again". Akaashi’s moving around the kitchen as well, taking out plates and silverware.

Bokuto chuckles a bit. “I do move around a lot when I’m asleep, could have happened there".

Akaashi settles on the space next to Bokuto, back resting on the counter. They’ve come to find peace in each other’s company even with their situation. Akaashi’s hands are folded on his chest, watching Bokuto flip the bacon with a fork. “Have you thought about my proposal?”.

Bokuto directs his stare towards Akaashi. “Do you really think you can give me my wings back?”. He didn’t mean to end it with that tone. After all, Bokuto still didn’t understand how Akaashi saved him. His words were simple enough for Bokuto to know why, but he didn’t asked to be saved.

“You forget that I can read your mind, Bokuto-san". Akaashi’s eyes almost betrays him, showing his disappointment in a mere second. Bokuto looks away, afraid he might ruin it more.

“I’m still thinking about it". Was his answer. It wasn’t what Akaashi wanted to hear, Bokuto needs more time. If Akaashi gives him wings it won’t be the same. To Bokuto it would feel like asking to wear the burden of his ancestors on his back and he’s done enough of that. Being a human wouldn’t be that bad either, he could get used to doing the same routine everyday. Aging up and dying peacefully. Humans will go back to dust.

Bokuto sets the food up and they eat in silence. The T.V. is still on, the clinks of their chopsticks and munching are the sounds that filled the entire house. Bokuto took a few glances of Akaashi, who is still pretty despite everything that has happened. Bokuto knows why he felt very attracted to him. The outlines of his face, the way his lips curved. Sometimes Bokuto would purposely think out loud for Akaashi to hear them, he would frown at him for it. Bokuto finds himself smiling instead, this arrangement is very strange even for him.

“Let’s say I would accept your offer. What’s the catch?”.

“I would need to erase all of your memories. A price you have to pay for your desire”.

“That’s it?”.

Akaashi nods. “Yes, Bokuto-san. Are you willing to give me your memories in exchange for wings?”.

“Wouldn’t it be just the same? Like when I was a kid and now?”. Bokuto furrowed his eyebrows.

“Yes. But I would be here and I will guide you. Only this time you’re not going to use it to save humans".

Bokuto watches as Akaashi gulps down the remaining water in his glass.

“You’re going to kill them". Bokuto almost chokes out.

“What-- Why? Akaashi are you planning to annihilate the human race?”. Bokuto is nearly afraid, Akaashi’s expression is not changing.

“The time has come for their kind to perish. I’ve seen into the future, Bokuto-san. The only way to restart everything again is to wipe off the whole planet including the heavens".

Akaashi’s words didn’t sink well into Bokuto’s ears. Why was he planning this? Who was Akaashi to decide for his sake?

“Even without my help, you’re still going with this plan?”. Bokuto’s eyes have started to glare at Akaashi, they still can’t agree on a lot of things.

“I have travelled from land to land. Years of searching, the gods have decided to put you in this one. Your purpose of life was to end all things that is good, not save them. You were supposed to give in and let yourself drown into your demon side. For every second we waste, we are only waiting for a bigger consequence”.

Akaashi leaves him on the table alone. His answer was more than what Bokuto expected to hear. Akaashi has been around longer than him, he has seen the world unfold to where it is now. It would only sound natural that Akaashi knows when it would end too. Bokuto has too many thoughts running wild in his head, Akaashi is going to erase his memories so he can use him however he wants. Bokuto abruptly stood from his chair, hands pounding on the table loud.

“Can I give you something else?”.

Akaashi raises his eyebrow on this, turning his back to him. If he is against Akaashi destroying everything then why is he even asking?

“Yourself. Sell me your soul and it’s a deal".

Bokuto drops back on his seat, it’s the same thing. He’s going to die as a human under Akaashi or save himself to kill others. Bokuto has always chosen others above himself, there was no way he can agree with Akaashi now. The way he sees it, Akaashi is trying to take advantage of what he has already obtained. He’s too much to handle without Bokuto trying to help him. Soul? Bokuto can’t figure out if he had one from the start. As he watched Akaashi’s retreating back under dimmed lights, Bokuto gazes at the windowsill. The sun is calling out to him. The world outside these four walls is begging for him.

His powers might be gone now but he can still feel the hearts of many people trying to reach out to him. Their voices, their cries; Bokuto pains himself to ignore them.

Akaashi lets Bokuto leave on the day his wounds are fully healed. He asked him again if this is the choice he will make, Bokuto keeping his face up. He is willing to stand with the rest of the world and meet their doom. Akaashi once again described to him the hurt he felt then, he will feel again. That it would not make any difference if the rest of the four billion human beings will suffer along with Bokuto. However this time, Akaashi will not be there to revive him back. Bokuto will die. Akaashi says this twice, the third time his concern still didn’t pass on.

“Death isn’t that bad Akaashi. It’s an endless slumber, yes. You must know this well, living in a world when your heart stopped a long time ago”.

Bokuto doesn’t linger any longer.

“I’ll wait. On the last day, I’ll find you and ask again. Ask me again what’s the catch to give you wings. I’ll wait”. Akaashi catches his hand in the last second of their unsteady breaths. Bokuto squeezes Akaashi’s hand, the want seeping into his gut. The words are frozen in their mouths, unspeakable emotions, the tension growing bigger. Bokuto lets go first. Akaashi’s hand felt right in his own, softer than his own, fitting the spaces perfectly.

This is not the world for them.

It was Akaashi’s turn to see Bokuto leave. He stands under the door frame looking up to the blue sky, cloudless and peaceful. Akaashi wants to reach up further and have the heavens crumble down on his mighty hand. He wants to feel the highest power on their knees, their cry for salvation. The blood spilling across oceans, countries washed in agony, Akaashi will sit right on top of it. He will watch as the world succumbs into nothing but sorrow, under his mercy. Bokuto is nowhere near his sight now; rejoining his beloved race.

Akaashi has seen different endings to this story. A different Bokuto in every encounter. The last one didn’t quite suit Akaashi’s taste for massacre, the Bokuto wasn’t as charming as this one too. His squirms didn’t stop with every bone Akaashi had broken, it kept coming. It was too boring. It didn’t take Akaashi that long to suck the life out of every breathing creature he met. He’s gained different names in different worlds: The god of death, the harbinger of doom, king of misfortune, etc. Akaashi brushes it all off his shoulder, he was simply bestowed a task by the angels themselves to bring forth the destruction of humanity. That’s all there is to it.

The angels have always been fickle minded for Akaashi. Not able to think for their own well being, not allowed to mingle with their own kind. They don’t die, they can go for days without food and water. Akaashi thinks their kind was made to endure all things impossible, all the questions sitting tight in his stomach. He’s met a number of them, handing their wings to his arms with shallow smiles resting on their lifeless faces. Akaashi traces along the bloodied outline of what was once the ultimate gift given to them, now masked with sealed messages no one can open. With every fallen angel, Akaashi becomes stronger. This angers him to his deepest core.

The golden era Bokuto spoke of only reminded Akaashi the years he spent zipping his lips close. What he saw then, he swallowed and let the sour guilt eat him up. Akaashi never figured out how his own person worked, how he was able to live this far without wanting to stab himself in the eye. Akaashi watched as all of them disappeared from the skies, his mind empty of them as well. A fool to believe the creator of good will save them again. Akaashi took things into his own hands hastily without looking back. He had no else but him, no one to hurt but him.

No one stopped him the first time he had done it. Akaashi watched as the sand on his feet rode against the dead winds, the earth he stood on then was empty. He waited for their god to remake everything from the same dust he spat on, the angels still didn’t halt from wanting to give themselves up. He was surprised beyond belief, Akaashi couldn’t figure out why.

He doesn’t remember when, at what price, he stopped wondering. The same blood spilling over and over on his hands had become more of a work for him.

Now as Akaashi stands at the present time, his figure shadowing along the sunset, he bears no attachment still. His eyes are searching for one person only, a person worth saving. Akaashi finds him looming over a tall building not far from him, searching for Akaashi himself. He makes the effort to let the other say his final words, standing on the edge of the structure.

“Are you gonna change your mind?”. Bokuto offers first, eyes searching Akaashi’s own.

“You know I’m not going to. Have you decided to change your mind?”. Akaashi drapes his hand on Bokuto’s cheek, their unspoken relationship was never laid down on steady ground. Bokuto leans into the touch knowingly, they were never meant to spend the rest of their lives together.

Bokuto shook his head, snaking his hands around Akaashi’s hips as he closed of the few inches that separated them. Akaashi felt colder than ever, Bokuto releases him in a second. It’s only a goodbye, he tells himself. Akaashi didn’t comment on the behavior, not once did he become sentimental for human emotions. He sees the longing in Bokuto’s eyes and he knows it will be the last time he will see them. Akaashi flicked his tongue on his lips, bringing them closer to Bokuto’s forehead. He lets them remain in the same position for a few more seconds, the next few minutes whispering to Akaashi in his wake.

“Till we meet again, Bokuto-san”.

“Goodbye, Akaashi”.

With this, Akaashi’s floating on air. This is the hardest farewell he’s done yet. He wants their hands to connect again in the near future. He wants the same Bokuto to cherish him behind all his sins. Akaashi’s facing the sky with fingers outstretched towards it, he knows Bokuto is watching him. He takes a breather to calm himself, calling forward his catastrophic spells. The sky turned darker than nights, the winds blowing harshly, the roars of lighting becoming louder. Akaashi has done this countless of times, the light fading into nothingness. He’s ready.

In the name of the father, Akaashi will bury thy sinners.

Of the son, he will soothe the earth once again.

And the holy spirit, darkness will envelop even silence.

Amen.

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my [tumblr!](w-akatoshi.tumblr.com). Yall can fite me there


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